


more than just a dream

by noirheart (Flumes)



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band), SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Baseball, Fluff, Jun-centric, M/M, Rival Relationship, SVT's 96 line, Sports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-14 14:51:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18950335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flumes/pseuds/noirheart
Summary: Yanan tries to protest but Jun cuts him off. “No, really. You want to know who caught my attention, the first time we played your team? The player I singled out, as the one to watch? The one I always look for, when I’m in the stands?”"How should I know –”“It’s you.”





	more than just a dream

**Author's Note:**

> The sports anime nerd in me jumped out with this one.
> 
> Who's living for this sweet intergroup friendship? Me, that's who.

It starts on a blisteringly hot summer’s day in his last year of high school. Jun surveys the field of his rival’s grounds and tries to summon the facts he crammed with Wonwoo the night before but the heat has turned his brain into sludge, so instead he leans his chin over his friend’s shoulder and peers at the scribbles in his notebook. He manages to read off a few names and positions before an ice cold bottle of water is pressed to his cheek and he yelps, rocking back on the bench and wiping condensation from his face.

 

Wonwoo snorts. “It’s too hot for you to be hanging over me like that.”

 

Jun pouts. “I was just trying to remember who we’re up against.”

 

Wonwoo, the team’s resident statistician, as well as their left fielder, flips through his notebook with a crease in his brow. He takes preparation nearly as seriously as Jihoon but Jun prefers to ask Wonwoo because he won’t scold him for not having memorised everything about their opposing team before he even turns up to the game. Jun is committed but he’s not _obsessed,_ and besides, he can never remember all the facts even if he tries.

 

“Their ace pitcher is the giant, Jung Wooseok. He has a powerful fastball and a good slider in his arsenal. He’s pretty green too so we don’t have much information about him other than that he’s been used effectively as both a closer and a starter against other teams. You should keep an eye on him so you’re prepared when you step up to the plate.”

 

Jun follows the line of Wonwoo’s finger to the boy that towers above the rest of his team – and they look like a pretty tall team – warming up as he chats to the catcher. Some of the batters are taking swings at another pitcher with honey blond hair. His pitches are nothing too impressive in terms of speed but he has nice form, muscles shifting beneath his uniform as he winds up and throws a pretty sharp looking splitter that cuts down just before the plate.

 

“How about defence?”

 

Wonwoo wipes the sweat from his forehead, curly hair sticking to his skin. “Their main catcher talking to Wooseok is known as Hui. From what I’ve been able to gather, he’s the Jihoon of their team and the one to watch. It’ll help if we can try to establish a pattern to his calls. The others I don’t know enough about to comment, other than to watch out for their shortstop, Kang Hyunggu. He’s quick on his feet. Good reflexes.”

 

Jun rolls his neck and hums. He’ll leave the analytics to Jihoon and Wonwoo. He prefers to just play, letting his instincts guide him once he gets to the plate. Still, it helps to know what he’s up against, especially when it comes to a new team like the one at Pentagon High that’s suddenly started taking this season by storm. New teams always make him wary because he doesn’t know what to expect.

 

“Alright you lazy sods, get out there and get warmed up before I have to send you off to medical for pulling a muscle.” Jeonghan gestures with his clipboard, blinking sleepily into the sunlight. He and Seungcheol both graduated last year but returned as part of their university programme to help manage and coach the team, respectively. “Hurry up. You’re making our team look lazy!”

 

Wonwoo snorts but rises, beginning to stretch as he moves to choose a bat. Jun laughs at the grimace on Minghao’s face, trying to fan himself with Wonwoo’s discarded notebook. Slinging an arm over his junior, he guides him to the line up for warm up with a wink for Jeonghan. The teams are already switching, black and white replaced with Pledis High’s pale pink and blue, which, while an odd choice, has given them a distinct character against any team they play.

 

Out in the blinding sunshine Soonyoung jumps up and down, apparently oblivious to the heat soaking his shirt with sweat. Crouched at the plate, Jihoon signals sharply to get him in line and Jun tries not to laugh at their battery’s antics. Joining Pledis’ baseball team had been a half-hearted decision on Jun’s part in an attempt to get to know new friends when he moved country two years ago but he could never bring himself to regret it. Even as he melts under the blazing sun, he loves the shouts of his teammates spurring him on and the way it feels like thunder is running through him when he smacks the ball off his bat. He loves sliding into base and knowing he has helped his team gain another win.

 

Today Jun is determined will be no different. Which is why he’s frustrated to find himself bottom of the fourth, coming up to bat with two runs down. He stands to the side as he tests his swing and focuses on the pitcher out on the field. To both Jihoon and Wonwoo’s surprise, they hadn’t started with their ace but instead with the honey haired pitcher from China known as Yanan. Having watched a whole a round of his team strike out because of this pitcher, Jun now feels a little bit more confident as he steps up to bat. Sometimes the pressure of being the lead off man can be overwhelming but when it comes down to the crunch he finds all the noise of the game drains away, until all he knows is himself and the pitcher opposite, the bat gripped tight between his hands and his legs poised to run.

 

Licking his lips, he blows on his sweaty fringe and ruminates on what Jihoon had murmured to him as he had stepped up to bat. Most likely to be fastball, fastball, followed by some kind of breaking ball. The boy has a nasty change up that almost seems to float and a splitter that drops right at the plate, after Pledis’ batters have already reacted. Yanan isn’t particularly fast like Soonyoung and he doesn’t have raw power like the giant Wooseok but his control is remarkable, hitting with precision over and over and over. He seems to show no fatigue from the heat, either.

 

Yanan winds up and Jun’s grip twists on the bat. Anticipation coils in his gut. First ball is just a test, so he’ll take a swing at it but mostly he’ll be watching to see if it follows Jihoon’s predicted pattern. The ball hurtles towards him and Jun swings forward just a little too quickly. Even Yanan’s fastball is pretty slow and he still can’t quite get the timing right.

 

He adjusts his stance, resets his bat, and tries to replay it in his mind. As the sun reaches its peak in a clear blue sky, it somehow manages to grow even warmer and the sweat trickling down his back is distracting. He forces himself to keep his focus. Upon the mound Yanan begins to wind up once more and Jun feels like a coiled spring, ready to jump. The ball is just a white speck in the shimmering air and he swings around with all his might, waiting for the crack of it against his bat, the telltale shudder down his arms.

 

It doesn’t come. Just as Jun is swinging for a fastball, it drops suddenly at the plate and lands neatly in the catcher’s mitt with a smack. Jun momentarily struggles with such a build up in tension that sees no release, rolling out his shoulders and studying the pitcher across from him. His gaze is sharp beneath the white cap of his uniform, blond hair jutting out from the sides. Sweat streaks his shirt but despite the blistering sunshine he appears relatively unaffected. Calm. That’s probably the most striking thing to Jun, who is used to the bouncy energy of Soonyoung.

 

Preparing for the last hit, he finds himself overthinking the sequence in a way he never normally does. What could it be? Another fastball, or one of those vicious splitters? Or even his change up? By the time Yanan winds up Jun is so out of his natural rhythm that he blindly swings, grunting with the force of it. He feels the hit, knows the bat taps the ball, but he sees it soar into the sky and grits his teeth. The ball falls gently and their right fielder Changgu only has to shift a few steps to catch it in his glove.

 

Jun steps away, shaking his head at Jihoon as Chan steps up to the plate. Instead of just following his instincts Jun let the pitcher get inside his head and ended up making a rookie mistake. He leans over the barrier of the bullpen to watch him from a different angle, considering his form and stoic appearance. Yanan is a far cry from the type of pitcher he’s used to but he can’t deny how effective he has been today.

 

“They’re toying with us,” grumbles Jihoon, shaking his head when Chan strikes out. “They haven’t even sent out their ace.”

 

“Hm, I don’t think that’s it,” he muses and feels the weight of Jihoon’s gaze. “He’s got something, that boy. Excellent control and concentration. He’s showing no signs of strain despite the heat.”

 

Jihoon taps out a beat on the bar. “I can’t work out what game that catcher is playing. I’m betting he did his research on all of us before the game.”

 

Jun snorts. “Because you’d never stoop to that kind of thing.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

After six innings and three runs to one, Pentagon High finally send out their ace to finish up the job, leaving the last three innings scoreless. It’s a sore loss for Pledis, against a brand new rookie team, but considering they’ve won the previous games in their bracket, Jun isn’t feeling too concerned. He watches the blond pitcher pack up his gear as he stretches out his tired muscles and sighs in relief at the sinking sun, the worst of the heat draining away to a balmier evening.

 

Jihoon is still grumbling, head bowed with Wonwoo as they go over their notes. Budging in between them, Jun throws an arm around both their necks and steers them away. “Quit worrying. We just need to win the next game and we’re through anyway.”

 

No use getting too upset over one loss, after all. Not when they have winning to focus on.

 

*

 

After winning the next game and securing their place in the next round, Jun ends up tagging along with Jihoon, Wonwoo and Soonyoung to watch Pentagon High’s next game against a rival school. If he’s curious about the team for reasons other than potentially facing them again in the competition he chooses not to voice them.

 

“It’s not like you to come with us,” says Soonyoung, sliding onto a bench to observe the game. There’s a decent turnout so it’s not like they’ll stand out when wearing their ordinary clothes, and besides, at this stage in the game it’s pretty common for rival teams to scout out the competition so even if they did get recognised it shouldn’t be an issue.

 

“As long as the two of you don’t distract us through the game,” says Jihoon. “I want to figure out what their strengths and weaknesses are.”

 

Soonyoung ruffles his hair until Jihoon swats him away, eyes turning into crescents as he laughs. “You’re way to serious about this. We should enjoy the game. I’m rooting for them.”

 

“You are?” says Jun.

 

“Sure, they beat us which means I want to face them again and get my revenge.”

 

Jun glances at the way Soonyoung leans over his thighs as the teams come out to begin. Apparently he still hasn’t forgiven those three runs. Funny, because Jun always assumed everything just run over him like water off a duck’s back. He supposes even a multitalented all rounder like Soonyoung has his insecurities. It makes him feel a little better about his own hang ups. The popped ball is still preying on his own mind, grip tightening on his jeans as Pentagon’s team take up the defence.

 

He’s disappointed to find they start with Wooseok who is undeniably powerful, baffling batter after batter from their rival team, but he lacks Yanan’s style. Jun can’t see him amidst their line up so he sits back and watches the game unfold, trying to keep track of who is who amongst the rest of their team. Trying to pick up their habits and tricks the way he knows the other three will be, information to feed through Jihoon’s rigorous analytics until they decipher some kind of meaning from it.

 

Apparently none of them have forgotten the loss. And neither will Pentagon’s rival team, either, from how badly they’re getting hammered. Wonwoo winces, nose wrinkling. “That has to hurt,” he says after Hyunggyu smacks a ball right into the stands a few feet from where they’re sitting and earns the team another three runs.

 

“It’s getting a little painful to watch,” admits Soonyoung.

 

Then on the seventh run Pentagon finally switch Wooseok out for the familiar honey blond hair sticking out of a white cap, head bowed in concentration as he centres himself on the mound. Without realising, Jun leans forward to get a better view. His wind up is so neat, so controlled, in contrast to the team’s ace pitcher. His uniform bunches around his muscles and it’s almost like Jun can feel the breath he takes as he strikes forward like a viper, and what seems like an ordinary fastball breaks at the plate so suddenly that the batter swipes air.

 

As this repeats, Jihoon narrows his eyes, muttering to himself as he scribbles in his notebook. It seems he’s as interested in Yanan as Jun, scowling into the sunlight.

 

“Still can’t figure out the pattern?” says Soonyoung.

 

“It’s like his control is so good that the catcher can come up with an infinite number of combinations.” Jihoon stares down at his notes and then looks back up.

 

“Relax. There’s still time to figure it out.”

 

“Besides,” adds Jun, still watching as the team switch sides for the next inning, “we still have quite a few games before we have a chance of matching up with them again.”

 

The game seems like it’s going to be a straight shut out until Jun catches honey hair and a white cap coming up to bat. His casual posture shifts, curious, and he winces as Yanan completely misses the timing on the first pitch. Then again. And again. It’s like all his skills as a pitcher have left him and he’s never played the game before his in his life. He shakes his head as he stalks away, looking at his feet the whole time. One of his teammates pats him on the shoulder but he still looks tense as he switches back to the mound.

 

Jun feels it before it happens. Whatever happened to Yanan behind the plate, it has rattled him. For the first time that day the opposing team manage to get a runner on the diamond and the catcher pauses the game to run out to him, the two ducking their heads together as they walk. A knot of anxiety coils in Jun’s gut as he watches two runs slip from Yanan’s unravelling before he finally manages to strike them out and the game is over.

 

Soonyoung pops to his feet immediately, rolling out his neck. “He’s not quite like that giant, is he?”

 

Wonwoo is still staring out at the field. “He managed to defeat us, didn’t he?”

 

Disgruntled, Jihoon snaps his notebook shut. “They’re still a new team. Let’s not get cocky.”

 

Jun reluctantly gets to his feet, lingering on the white cap before he catches up with his team. Normally he’s only ever been into playing baseball; he can’t remember the last time he was so invested in simply watching. Something about their scrappy little team has him hooked and now he wants to know how they’ll do.

 

He wants to know how Yanan will do, if only he can keep up that razor sharp control of his.

 

*

 

On their way back home Soonyoung begs for ice cream, bouncing up and down with excitement about an ice cream van he noticed when they arrived. Neither Jihoon nor Wonwoo are willing to indulge him but Jun cracks beneath Soonyoung’s puppy eyes, sighing fondly when they fold into smiling crescents as he shouts out his order. Jun leaves them to discuss the next team they’ll face, relieved to be free of Jihoon’s endless reel of stats. He just has no interest in the numbers. It’s the feel of the game he enjoys.

 

As he’s trying to follow the hasty instructions Soonyoung gave him, he hears a whoosh of air and a grunt of breath nearby. Curious, he follows the dirt path past a row of hedges until he comes into a long stretch of ground with faded markings. It might have a tennis court, once. Jun can’t really tell. He’s too focused on the figure standing in the centre, hands clutched white knuckled around a bat as he makes swing after swing after swing, his breaths filling the quite space.

 

“You won’t learn anything that way.”

 

The figure startles, nearly falling over. Yanan is still wearing his Pentagon uniform and when he turns the light shines bright enough to make him blinding. Jun shields his eyes and approaches with raised palms. “Sorry,” he says, “didn’t mean to startle you.”

 

“You’re Pledis’ lead off.”

 

Jun nods. “Wen Junhui. Call me Jun.”

 

Yanan’s eyes go even rounder. “You’re Chinese.”

 

Jun cocks his head. “The name didn’t give it away?”

 

Yanan lifts his cap and scrapes back his hair. It flops back over his face, all dishevelled. Attractive, if Jun is being honest. He squints as him as if contemplating asking a question but before he can Jun steps forward, gesturing for the bat. When Yanan isn’t forthcoming, he rolls his eyes and says, “I can help you, if you want.”

 

“I’m your rival.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Why?”

 

Jun tilts his head, chewing over all the answers he could give. Something about Yanan strikes him as startlingly straightforward, so he decides on the truth. “You captured my attention. Your pitching is incredible.”

 

He looks flustered. “I mean, I’m hardly Wooseok.”

 

“You don’t have to be. There’s no one way to pitch a ball is there?”

 

Yanan stares at him for another moment before a smile creeps over his face, shaking his head in disbelief. Handing the bat into Jun’s outstretched hand, he says, “Who are you?”

 

“Didn’t we already discuss this?” He picks the ball from the ground and throws an underhand toss to Yanan as he jogs away. “Give me a clean pitch and watch me.”

 

Yanan still looks dubious but he winds up and throws a tame fastball that would fly over centre of the plate. It’s that easy for him to control the motions, Jun thinks as he watches it hurtle past him. He’s really something formidable, only as he stands there shifting from foot to foot, squinting in the sun, he doesn’t seem to realise just how talented he really is.

 

“You didn’t do anything.”

 

Jun rolls his eyes as he fetches the ball, tossing it back. “I’m the lead off for a reason,” he says. “It’s best to get a look at what you’re dealing with sometimes. Now, pitch again.”

 

“You sure you’re not just messing with me?”

 

Jun flashes him a grin. “I mean, I could be. You’re not really gonna know until you try it, right?”

 

Huffing, Yanan winds up once more, lunging as he throws the ball. This time, without tricks and breaking pitches, having seen it just moments before, Jun can picture the position of the ball before it reaches him. He can sense the timing like it’s a silent rhythm that only he can hear, swinging at just the right time that the bat cracks against the ball with a decent sounding smack and sends it high into the sky, looping up in an arc over the hedges. He watches it disappear and then turns to Yanan with a triumphant grin. “See?”

 

“I don’t think I’m getting that ball back.”

 

Jun scratches his head. “I’ll get you a new one. Come on, over here.” He beckons Yanan, who jogs over with a hesitant look still twisting his features.

 

Jun hands him the bat and then prods him into a proper batting stance, hands pushing at warm muscle until he’s satisfied. He can feel the weight of Yanan’s eyes following his every movement and he resists meeting them in case the awkwardness gets to him. Jun knows how he can come across sometimes; he’s a little weird, sure. Maybe a little more forward than people are comfortable with.

 

Sometimes you have to cross the line if you want to get to the other side, he thinks.

 

“How does that feel?”

 

“I don’t know. A little strange?”

 

Jun nods. “Try and remember the position. Now, focus on the pitch. Imagine it’s going to come here,” he says, gesturing to a spot over the imaginary plate. “We’re going to swing now, just follow your body’s instinct.” Then he uses his hands to move Yanan in a sweeping arc. “Just like that.”

 

This close he can see how long Yanan’s eyelashes are, his body heat amplifying the muggy air and making him sweat. Flushing, Jun steps back. “Now try on your own,” he says. “Picture what’s coming for you and take a shot.”

 

“What if I’m wrong about what’s coming?”

 

“Adjust as best as you can. Keep your eyes on the ball and let your body follow. Stop overthinking so much and let your instinct take over.”

 

Yanan straightens. “I still don’t really get why you’re helping me.”

 

Jun hears voices and remembers promises of ice cream. He really should go, as much as he doesn’t want to leave, content to lift his face to the summer sun and meet the gaze of the earnest boy across from him. There’s something thrillingly intimate about this little court, tucked behind the hedges, like a secret whispered between friends. Forcing himself to take that first reluctant step, he breaks the spell building between their locked gazes, grinning despite himself. “If I’m going to beat an opponent, I want to do it when they’re at their best.”

 

As he scampers off after the ice cream van, he hears Yanan call out, “We’ll see when we’re on the field, won’t we?”

 

Jun just laughs. His fingertips still tingle with Yanan’s warmth.

 

*

 

The next time they play Pledis High’s team seems more fired up than usual. Jihoon is wearing the expression: the squinting, focused eyes and the tense jaw that mean all business. He leads Soonyoung into a complete shut out. Jun manages to get a few good hits off the opposite team’s pitcher, his muscles burning pleasantly in a way that lets him know he’s worked hard. He rolls off the plate from having slid into the base, earning Pledis’ fifth run and knows it’s as good as a done deal.

 

After the game is over and hands have been shaken, Jun is walking off with a towel draped over his neck when he feels eyes upon him. Warming up in the opposite field are the blinding white figures of Pentagon High, and amongst them a tall, lean figure carrying his bat stands out. From beneath his cap Yanan stares across the field at him and Jun pauses with his bottle halfway to his lips. Peeking out from beneath his cap, his honey hair has been replaced with inky black locks, growing out slightly longer now.

 

Jun unscrews the cap of his bottle and chucks half the contents over him. As he’s scraping his wet hair from his face he waggles his fingers in a greeting, flashing his teeth. Yanan’s head ducks quickly and then he looks up again, giving a brief wave before he’s turning back to batting practice.

 

“Cute,” he murmurs to himself.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

Jun startles, turning to see Minghao tucking his sweaty hair behind a cap. “Just sizing up the competition.”

 

Minghao raises his brows. “Flirting up the competition, more like.”

 

“I was not! Hey, come back, you brat,” he yells, running after Minghao’s stupidly long legs. “Show some respect to your elders!”

 

He catches up and swings an arm around his neck, the two of them sauntering off to the locker room for a shower. The hot water soothes his aching muscles, a blessed relief after so much running under the overbearing sun. But he can’t shake the image in his mind, of Yanan watching him under the summer sun, his graceful form as he winds up, and his long sooty lashes framing dark eyes.

 

Maybe Jun was flirting a little.

 

So he sneaks back out with damp hair and his bag slung over his shoulder to find Jihoon already sitting in the stands, scribbling down notes on the match unfolding before them. Pentagon High are pitching and the opposing side can’t seem to get a decent hit off the pitcher, his form too smooth, too controlled. With what seems like an easy ball, Yanan corners the batter, forcing him to pop the pitch into the air so that the left fielder secures it with little more than a step to the side. Inning over, sides switch.

 

As the fielders run off, Yanan removes his cap and runs a hand through jet black hair. Jun leans over the railing and tries to get him to look up through the power of thought alone. On the bench behind him he can practically hear the frustration radiating from Jihoon in waves.

 

“I told you he was good.”

 

Jihoon taps his pencil against his chin, narrowing his eyes. “I never said he wasn’t.”

 

“Mm. But I don’t think you saw it until now.”

 

Jihoon keeps watching, hawk eyes seeing all. “Maybe,” he says finally.

 

Jun just smiles, something like electricity crackling in his veins. Pledis High will get to the top of their bracket, and Pentagon High will, too. Then they will be able to play together, but this time he will know what to expect.

 

He’ll be ready to savour it, the next time they play.

 

*

 

After a series of gruelling matches, Seungcheol allows the team to miss practice that night and attend the carnival. It’s a swelteringly hot summer’s night and Jun fans himself for the illusion of a whiff of air, clinging to Minghao’s sweaty back as he tries to swat him away.

 

“It’s too warm! Get off me,” he says, wriggling out of his hold.

 

Jun sighs as they walk past the glittering lights of the rides, music blaring all around them. As nice as it is to rest his weary muscles, he’s too tired and too hot to really appreciate the night off. What he wants more than anything is to have a cold shower and collapse into bed. Maybe even manage a few hours of sleep. Still, he’s not going to moan about getting time off, no matter how much the sweat drips down his neck.

 

“Let’s ride the ferris wheel!” exclaims Soonyoung, Dokyeom bouncing on his heels. The two of them race off, giggling like hyenas, and Jun leaves them to it with a lethargic smile.

 

Jihoon sighs and shakes his head but he’s smiling, trailing after them because someone has to keep them in line. Jeonghan has his arm wrapped around Chan, telling him he’s too young to be running off by himself. Chan grimaces, wrestling in his grasp with a litany of protests, Seungcheol chuckling as he makes up the rear.

 

The aroma of cooking meat catches Jun’s attention and his stomach rumbles, so he breaks off from the rabble of Pledis’ team and trots off in the direction of the street stalls spotted between the rides and games, screams of excitement mixing with the booming music around him. On one of the first stalls he comes to there are fat cuts of beef on skewers being grilled on a barbecue, the smell lingering in the still air. A few people brush past him to order and Jun’s gaze flicks between it and some of the stalls ahead with his mouth watering.

 

He can’t decide what he wants so he drifts on, lured by the snap and crackle of pork rinds. The heat wafting off the stall is almost unbearable but for the empty pit that is his belly and he digs out his wallet, considering if he should buy some for the team too. As he’s counting a figure nudges up beside him, a tall shadow cast over him, and he glances up only to do a double take. Handsome face, thick brows, black hair. Soft spoken, glancing at the sizzling food.

 

Taking a step closer, he nudges at his side with a small smile that only grows when Yanan’s eyes widen, blinking at him. “Jun?”

 

“In the flesh.”

 

Yanan rolls his eyes, glancing away. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I was about to get some food. You hungry?”

 

“Starving, but –”

 

Jun orders two portions to Yanan’s protests, shushing him when he tries to but in. Taking the paper cartons, he carries them over to one the few sets of plastic tables placed out beside the stall and pulls out a chair. It wobbles a little when he folds himself into it, and Yanan looks a little unsettled when he drops into his, clutching the table. Jun laughs, charmed, and hands him his food. There’s something sweet about Yanan that makes him need to amp up his own charm in response. It’s not that he feels threatened, exactly, but more like he wants to prove himself somehow.

 

“You didn’t have to,” Yanan mumbles through a mouthful of food.

 

“Maybe I wanted to.”

 

A flush rises to Yanan’s cheeks and he ducks his head. God, he really is too much. If Jun were a worse person, he would almost say he wants to corrupt him, just a little. See what he’s really like beneath the shy smiles and restrained pitcher focus. He’s seen the strength there. The resilience on the mound. Heat unfurls in his gut at the thought of peeling back the layers and peering at what lies beneath. At the thought of seeing him really let loose.

 

“I don’t really get you.”

 

Jun leans on his hand, admiring the way the stall lights illuminate the planes of Yanan’s face. “I’m not a complicated guy,” he says, throwing pork into his mouth and savouring the way it melts on his tongue. “There’s not a lot to figure out.”

 

“Somehow I doubt that.”

 

He tilts his head. “Have you been thinking about me?”

 

Yanan chokes, coughing as he frantically gestures for water. Jun hands him his bottle, watching as he gasps for air between sips. Eventually he calms down, glaring at him from over the rim of the bottle. At his tense posture, Jun only laughs, leaning back in his chair. “You’re so calm on the mound. I never would have guessed you fluster so easily.”

 

“Baseball is different,” says Yanan, thawing a little. They’ve devoured most of the pork rinds now, only picking at crumbs. “Everything narrows down to you and the ball, you know? If it was all just that, maybe…”

 

“Maybe?”

 

“It wouldn’t be so hard, I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like I’m not cut out for it. All the pressure, I mean.”

 

“Pressure is only there if you put it there. You can just enjoy the game.”

 

Yanan runs a hand through his hair, some of it falling over his face. “Do you?”

 

Jun nods. “Don’t get me wrong, I want to win. But I want to win for my team, because we’ve all worked so hard together to get where we are. I’m not going to do it if I’m not enjoying the game. At that point, it’s time to stop for me. It’s just a hobby, you know.”

 

Yanan sighs. “I guess I just can’t help but hear the comparisons to Wooseok. He’s younger than me, and more powerful, and he never seems to –”

 

“You aren’t Wooseok. He isn’t you.” Yanan tries to protest but Jun cuts him off. “No, really. You want to know who caught my attention, the first time we played your team? The player I singled out, as the one to watch? The one I always look for, when I’m in the stands?”

 

“How should I know –”

 

“It’s you.”

 

Jun lets the silence between them stretch out, some of the background noise of ride music and children’s laughter filtering back in. Yanan’s brows furrow, eyes scanning him up and down as if to detect a lie, but Jun holds his gaze firm. Eventually, Yanan makes a strangled sound from the back of his throat, turning away so that Jun can see his profile outlined in orange from the carousel lights.

 

When he looks back, he’s smiling a rueful smile. “You say these things sometimes.”

 

Jun blinks like he doesn’t know, but he does. Some people think he’s weird. “I mean them.”

 

“Yeah,” says Yanan, “I’m getting that.”

 

“I know I can be too forward.”

 

“No. No, it’s kind of nice, actually.”

 

And now it’s Jun’s turn to flush, heat rising to his face that he hopes can be explained away by the humidity in the air. Yanan smiles back at him and he feels a strange fluttering in his stomach. It’s like Yanan just gets him somehow. Like they fit together, two different jigsaw pieces that click and connect. The feeling is akin to when Jun first tried out for the baseball team in his first year of Korean high school, only to feel his loneliness disappear when Soonyoung bumped his arm and gave him a high five for managing to hit his pitch.

 

“You’re a good pitcher,” Jun says after a while, neither of them making any effort to move. The heat of the day still lingers but it’s pleasant, the pair of them tucked into the side of the food stall, full and sated, with the buzz in the air of excited families and couples strolling hand-in-hand, ice cream cones and pink candyfloss clutched in their hands. “You shouldn’t look down on yourself. I promise no one else is.”

 

Yanan bites his lip as if he’s trying to stop the instinctive curling of his mouth. “You’re good too, you know. You made me nervous, that first time you came up to bat.”

 

“I did?” he says, leaning forward. “Was it my dashing good looks? Were you struck dumb by this glorious hair?”

 

And when Yanan lets loose a booming laugh that draws the attention of the table of girls next to them Jun just smiles, satisfied. Loose limbed and laid-back, Yanan seems more at ease than Jun has ever seen him and it sends a thrill through him to be the one to do it. It’s a bit addictive, he thinks, trying to make Yanan smile.

 

Especially when it makes him look that handsome.

 

*

 

Sometimes everything clicks and the team soar through a game like a well-oiled machine. Sometimes everything is difficult, Soonyoung struggling with control and the batters unable to get a hit. Like everything in life, baseball is a series of ups and downs, with euphoric highs and agonising lows.

 

On this day, Pledis High scrape through six runs to five on the tenth inning, every single one of them mud splattered and exhausted. When they walk off the field no one bothers congratulating each other. They’re too weary, too numb. Too aware of how close they came to almost losing it all, watching it slip between their fingers until the last moment when Mingyu slugged out a good hit between the outfielders and they managed to survive the game with only one extra inning. They all know how it close it came to a different result.

 

“Jun!”

 

He looks up, spotting the white uniforms of Pentagon High watching from the dugout. They’re playing their game next, against a powerhouse of a school that’s been scoring well for years. From their huddle emerges Yanan, striding towards him with more purpose than Jun would have expected, waving to him.

 

“Hey,” he says, stopping short as if only now realising he has the eyes of Jun’s team upon him. He rubs the back of his neck, looking around himself, and even with a gesture so small Jun already feels invigorated. “You played really well today. Really, really well.”

 

Jun can’t shrug off the burden on his shoulders, even when he tries. Every failed move is weighing on him today. “We nearly lost.”

 

“But you won. I saw you steal that base on the seventh and swore you were going to get caught. It was incredible.”

 

Jun smiles. “It was okay. It’s just a reminder that we need to work harder.”

 

Something in Yanan’s face changes, features rearranging into a quiet kind of resolve as he nods. “You need to be at your very best for when we play you. I don’t want to beat you any other way.”

 

“You still have to win first,” he says, watching Pentagon’s other giant of a pitcher walk by with their catcher for warm up, huddled together as they go over their plays, “and you’re playing quite the team.”

 

“We’ll win.” Yanan’s eyes shine. “We’ll win and then we’ll play together.”

 

Jun can’t help the way the corner of his mouth lifts. “I’m glad to see you looking so fired up.”

 

The catcher calls after Yanan, who tips his cap at him. “Someone told me to just enjoy the game. I guess I’m taking that advice.”

 

Jun watches Yanan jog away towards the mound. “It must have been someone very wise!” he shouts through cupped hands.

 

Yanan blows him a kiss and he pretends to stagger, swooning. But the truth of it is, Jun doesn’t need to pretend. With a simple conversation the rain clouds have been swiped from above his head, skipping back to the changing rooms to get showered. The grin still finds him as he emerges to the sun breaking from the hazy sky, leaning over the edge of the railing to watch Yanan strike out the opposing team’s clean up batter.

 

Jun doesn’t really believe in fate but there feels something portentous about their meeting. Now he just can’t wait until they play each other again in the final.

 

*

 

“This is Yanan,” says Jun. “He’s going to demonstrate how to wind up.”

 

The kids Jun teaches on Sunday mornings crowd around a flustered Yanan, babbling incoherently in their tiny, high-pitched voices. Yanan meets his gaze in desperation and Jun laughs, taking a moment just to enjoy the situation before he shoves his way in and slips his hand into Yanan’s, dragging him through the grasping fingers still sticky from their juice cartons until he’s safely tucked behind Jun.

 

“Play nice,” he scolds, his mock frown threatening to crack at how cute they are with their bright eyes and huge grins. Jun loves teaching the kids almost as much as he enjoys playing baseball. “Or else Yanan won’t show you to pitch properly.” His mouth is twitching. “Alright, split up into your groups. You know what you should be doing. Samuel’s group will pitch first.”

 

Yanan is still watching the kids warily from behind his back and Jun steps to the side to expose him, raising his brows. “Mr big bad pitcher isn’t afraid of some children, is he?”

 

Apparently Yanan has a competitive streak even worse than Jun’s because his eyes flash and then he’s approaching the group of children with his ball in hand. “I’m going to show you how to perform a proper wind up. Are you all watching carefully?”

 

Jun certainly is, standing back to admire the way Yanan’s consternation slips away to be replaced with the calm Jun recognises from the mound as he shifts into position, raising his leg and talking his way through his motions. Slowly, he twists out of it and lunges forward, thrusting the ball across the field towards the marker for the plate. The ball strikes the chain link fence at the edge of the field, bounces off it, and rolls to a stop. The kids all make exclamations with wide eyes and then erupt into a round of applause. Yanan meets his eye again, flushing bright red. There’s a small smile creeping across his face and it makes Jun’s insides twist into knots.

 

The morning slips into afternoon and before Jun knows it the first of the parents are showing up to pick up their children. Jun bends down and waves them off, giving them pats on the head and telling each of them how well they did. He really loves teaching them. Loves the way they watch with attentive eyes and get so excited over such simple things he sometimes takes for granted. It reminds him how much joy joining his baseball team brought him, back when he had been scared and lonely, just a foreign boy in a foreign land, tripping over his words in an effort to make friends.

 

Once they’re all gone, the sun beating down on an empty playing field, he stands up and find Yanan at his side. “You’re good at this,” he says, gaze flickering past him. His cheeks are still pink but whether it’s due to the heat from the afternoon sun or his embarrassment, Jun can’t be sure.

 

“I like helping them. It’s nice to be reminded of the joy of the game when the pressure starts to get to me, you know?”

 

Yanan gains a far away look in his eyes as he nods. “I do. I think I get too caught up in that and I forget.”

 

Jun nudges his side. “Hey. You did well today. They loved you.”

 

Yanan ducks his head. “No. They were just excited to try pitching.”

 

“They were excited to see you pitch. Just like I always am.”

 

Finally, Yanan meets his eyes properly. After a long beat of silence in which Jun’s heart rate picks up exponentially, he grits out, “You’re so greasy.”

 

He leans in, backing Yanan up until he’s against the wall of the changing rooms. “But you like it, right?”

 

Yanan turns even redder. “Are you… flirting with me?”

 

Jun’s eyebrows must shoot to his hairline. “You’re just noticing now?”

 

“Maybe?”

 

Jun tilts his head, surveying him. Yanan’s gaze is no longer jumping around, fixed on him intently. He’s not trying to move away, or put space between them, and his eyes are flitting between Jun’s eyes and his lips, like he knows what he wants but doesn’t know how to ask. So gently he presses forwards, fists his hands in Yanan’s shirt collar, and pulls him down so their lips meet.

 

When he pulls back Yanan’s eyeslashes are fluttering. Then they open wide. “You like me.” The grin transforms his face and Jun is struck dumb by how handsome he is up close, sunlight streaking across one half of his face and making him glow.

 

“I like you.”

 

“I like you, too.”

 

His heart swoops. “Yeah?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

They stand there, simply staring at one another. Yanan’s shoulders start to shake and then he’s giggling, a hand covering his mouth. The sound is infectious and Jun finds himself laughing too, pressing his laughter into Yanan’s neck. Yanan turns his head and suddenly they’re kissing again, more heated than before. His mouth opens, licking into Yanan’s, and he feels hands roaming beneath his shirt, across his chest. He’s hot all over, his chest so light he feels like he could float away, and all he can feel is Yanan all around him. His fingertips against his skin make him shiver.

 

They part to breathe, Yanan delightfully mussed, his lips red as he pants for breath. “I feel like we should make something clear, though.”

 

Jun wipes spit from his mouth, grinning. “What’s that?”

 

“When we both make the final, I won’t go easy on you.”

 

The laughter spills from him, unbidden. He holds out his hand to shake. “You’ve got a deal.”

 

Yanan takes his hand, palm rough from handling a ball. A calloused thumb runs over his skin and Jun shudders.

 

“Can we get back to kissing now?”

 

Yanan grabs his face with his hands and kisses him senseless.

 

*

 

It hasn’t been an easy journey but Pledis High make it to the final of the championship. To Jun’s delight, so do Pentagon High. As he’s helping Soonyoung with his stretches he spots the pristine white uniforms against the green of the field and pauses, glancing up. Soonyoung follows his gaze.

 

“Oh, it’s your boy. I can’t believe you picked another pitcher over me.”

 

Jun swats away his pout. “Hush. I’m still going to beat them.”

 

“Aw, Junnie, that’s so mean. Aren’t you supposed to console your partner? What if he’s broken-hearted?”

 

Jun waggles his brows as he stands, dusting himself off. “Then I’ll just have to console him, won’t I?”

 

Soonyoung whistles. “You’re a devious one, Wen Junhui,” he shouts after him as he jogs over to the opposing team.

 

“Yanan,” he says, stopping a few feet short of him. His stomach still does a funny little flip when he sees him in his uniform, impossibly long legs drawing him up to a lean torso and handsome face, open and warm when he gazes back at him. “Let’s have a good game.”

 

Yanan steps forward, takes his hand and shakes it with a firm grip. His thumb slides over his skin in that way he likes and he gives him a knowing smile as Jun pulls back, the hairs on his arms rising. “I’ll give it my best.”

 

Jun’s grin spreads slowly. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.” With one last look at his boyfriend, he tips his hat and runs back to his team.

 

Whatever the result of the match, he knows he’s going to play his heart out. More importantly, he’s going to enjoy the game.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!


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